One Nice Bug Per Day
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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Love Begins
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@f4ll-for-you
John Logan Masterlist
Sick Day
Rough Day*
The Artist & The Hockey Player Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4* Part 5
Falling Apart
I could be a better boyfriend than him*
All Mine*
Its always going to be you
All my love Part 1 Part 2
Unhappy endings
Wanna be yours
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sort of - john logan
pairing ! john logan x fem!reader
summary ! you clean up john's hand after he beats up your ex
warnings ! mild wound descriptions, fluff.
wc ! 1k
author's note ! off campus as my comeback hell yeah !!
to be added to my taglist.
Hi!! I’m obsessed w your graham!sister fics and was wondering if you do requests? If so, I’ve been thinking about how Logan or whoever would react to finding out about the abuse from garret (like in the show) while they are dating graham!reader? Just the whole reaction and angst and comfort from it all
Until Someone Knew
John Logan x Graham!Reader (y/n)
Summary: Garett tells Logan about his dad, which makes Logan realise that y/n, Garett’s sister also had to deal with years of abuse from Phil.
TW: mentions of abuse
Word Count: 2.4K
My Gospel
pairing: john logan x fem!reader words: 3.3k summary: Logan is trying every single trick in the book to ask you out, but you couldn't care less because you are very convinced he is just trying to rebound. warnings: fluffity fluff babyyyyyy <3, some cussing, one single makeout a/n: this was sooooo fun to write, based on this request; also the title has nothing to do with religion btw, it's from the song My Gospel by Charlie Puth, it just fit the vibe of the chapter
Every time you were at a party or any social event, really, and you actually made an effort to find love in Allie's words, nothing happened. You didn't really feel "it" with any of the guys who flirted with you. John Logan offered to walk you home one (1) time after a party, cause it was late and you were alone, and you were done for. That's it.
You saw him everywhere you went. Looked for him in every single room. And when you did see him, and he did a little wave in your direction, it was like a kaleidoscope of butterflies had made your insides their home.
john logan wants to know you’re completely his ♡
warnings: 18+ (mdni) + the jersey stays on + jewelry with initials
a/n: a little thing before i work on fluffier stuff!
logan likes it when you make it known you’re his in small ways.
this results in the fact that his jersey stays on. stays on you, specifically, when you’re sprawled out underneath him, eyelashes fluttering coyly because you were all proud and satisfied as you waited for logan to get home. there you were, sitting on his bed in nothing but his deep blue jersey.
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hii!!
could you do something where John Logan gets badly hit during a game and reader is in full panic mode in the crowd even if he says he’s fine and it’s a bit angsty but cute ? <3
When the Hit Lands
Pairing: John Logan x Reader
Word Count: 1342
Request open!
Off campus masterlist
John Logan had taken hard hits before.
That was the problem.
You knew, rationally, that hockey was a brutal sport. You knew people got checked into the boards, knocked off balance, sent sprawling into the ice. You knew John had always been tough enough to take it.
Knowing that did absolutely nothing when it happened to him.
You were in the stands with your hands wrapped around your program, halfway through the second period, when the play turned ugly in the blink of an eye. One second John had the puck, the next he was pinned hard against the boards by a defenseman twice as angry as he had any right to be.
The crack of it made your stomach drop.
John hit the ice.
The entire arena seemed to lurch with you.
You were already on your feet before you realized it, heart hammering so hard you could barely hear anything else. On the ice, John rolled once, then pushed himself up slowly. Too slowly.
Your hands went cold.
“John,” you whispered, though he could not hear you.
He stayed down another second, one glove pressed briefly to his side, then got up and skated with a stiffness that made your panic spike instantly. You could see the way he tried to hide it. The way he shook it off. The way he lifted his stick like he was fine.
But you knew him.
And he was not fine.
Beside you, Garrett leaned forward and squinted toward the ice. “That looked bad.”
You turned on him immediately, eyes wide. “He’s hurt.”
Garrett glanced at you and then back at the rink. “Maybe just shook up.”
“No.” Your voice cracked. “No, he’s hurt.”
He made a face. “Okay, okay. Let’s wait.”
You did not want to wait.
You watched the rest of the shift with your nails digging into your palms so hard it almost hurt more than the fear. Every time John moved, your eyes tracked him. Every time he touched his side, your panic got worse. Every time he told the trainer he was fine, you felt like you might crawl out of your skin.
When the period finally ended, John skated toward the bench with obvious annoyance written all over him.
“That’s not good,” Tucker muttered from below.
John was talking to the trainer while the guys surrounded him. You could not hear the words, only see the stubborn set of his jaw and the way he kept insisting on something while the trainer clearly did not agree.
Then John looked up.
Right at you.
Even from the stands, you could tell he was trying to reassure you.
He lifted a hand a little, like a wave. Like a signal.
You had never hated being told to calm down more in your life.
The moment he disappeared into the tunnel, you were already moving.
You found him near the locker room hallway with the trainer still pressing him to go for a scan. John was sitting on the bench with one elbow on his knee, face a little pale now that the adrenaline had started to fade. He looked up the second he heard your shoes.
There you were.
And somehow that made him look both better and worse.
“Hey,” he said, immediately trying for a smile. “You okay?”
You stopped in front of him and stared. “Am I okay?”
He blinked at your tone. “I’m asking because you look like you’re about to murder someone.”
“I am about to murder someone.”
His mouth twitched. “That tracks.”
You took one look at him sitting there trying to act like he was not holding his side and your eyes filled instantly.
John’s expression changed. “Oh, no.”
“Don’t oh, no me.”
He frowned. “Baby.”
“You got hit hard.”
“I know.”
“And then you told me you were fine.”
He gave you a helpless little look. “I am fine.”
You stared at him like he had lost his mind. “John.”
“What?”
“You are absolutely not fine.”
The trainer backed off discreetly once he realized the two of you were not going to be having a calm conversation in any traditional sense.
John reached for your hand. “Come here.”
You did, but only because you wanted to prove to yourself he was actually real and not made of stubbornness and terrible decisions. The second you got close, he caught your wrist and brought your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.
That made you want to cry harder.
“Don’t do that,” you whispered, voice shaking.
“Do what?”
“Act normal.”
He exhaled through his nose and looked up at you with a tired, fond expression that still did not hide the pain underneath it. “I’m trying not to freak you out.”
“That ship has sailed.”
A soft laugh escaped him, then turned into a wince. He immediately pressed his lips together.
Your entire face changed. “See? You’re hurt.”
His eyes softened. “A little.”
“You’re not supposed to say a little when you look like this.”
“I’m trying to be brave.”
That made something in your chest ache.
You sat down beside him carefully and immediately tucked yourself close, one hand resting cautiously on his arm. “What did they say?”
“Probably a bruised rib. Maybe nothing worse.” He shrugged, then winced again and looked annoyed with himself. “Need to get checked out.”
You nodded quickly. “Okay. We’re doing that.”
He smiled at the we. “You sound terrifying.”
“I am terrifying.”
“That you are.”
You reached up and touched his cheek, relief and panic still battling in your chest. “You scared me.”
John’s face softened in a way that made him look suddenly so gentle it hurt.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
You shook your head. “Just don’t do that again.”
He gave you a long look, then said, “I’ll try.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“Noted.”
You had to smile through the tears, which was unfair because he immediately looked a little more relieved when he saw it.
By the time they got him to the medical room, you were hovering so hard the nurse actually smiled at you and told you he was in good hands.
John, sitting on the exam table now while someone checked his ribs, kept reaching for you whenever he got the chance. A hand on your waist. Fingers against your wrist. Thumb brushing your knuckles.
At one point you leaned in and muttered, “You’re being clingy.”
He gave you a pained little smile. “You’re the one staring like I’m going to shatter.”
“That’s because you might.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “That dramatic?”
“Yes.”
The nurse was trying very hard not to laugh.
When the scan came back and the trainer confirmed it was just a nasty bruise and a few days of rest, your entire body finally let go of the fear you’d been carrying since the hit landed.
You exhaled so hard John looked up immediately.
“There she is,” he murmured.
You gave him a shaky look. “You’re not dying?”
He let out a quiet laugh, then winced and looked offended by the timing. “No.”
“Good.”
He held out both arms then, and you moved into them without hesitation, careful around his side. He tucked you close and kissed the top of your head.
“I’m okay,” he said softly.
You buried your face against his shirt and closed your eyes. “I know.”
But your hand still stayed spread carefully over his chest like you needed to make sure for yourself.
John kissed your hair once more and murmured, “I’ve got you.”
You pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes still wet but calmer now. “Yeah?”
His expression went warm and steady. “Yeah.”
And because you were still a little shaken and he was still warm and alive and here, you let yourself stay in his arms a little longer while the rest of the arena moved on around you.
He was fine.
You were fine.
And when he kissed your forehead before leaving the rink, it felt like enough to carry you both home.
Between Us {John Logan x reader} Part 26
Masterlist
Summary: They were never nothing—but John Logan made sure they were never something either. Until the night he sees her with someone else... and realises too late what he let slip away.
Warnings: hospital, labour, coma
The first contraction wakes you at 2:17 in the morning.
At first, you think it's another false alarm.
You've had plenty of them over the past week.
Enough that both you and Logan have become experts at waiting twenty minutes before deciding whether it's actually happening.
So when the pain tightens low in your stomach, you simply squeeze your eyes shut and breathe through it.
It passes.
You let out a slow breath.
Then another one comes.
Stronger.
Longer.
You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling for a moment before slowly turning your head.
Beside you, Logan is asleep.
One arm stretched across the mattress toward your side, even in sleep unconsciously searching for you.
You almost smile.
Almost.
Another contraction steals your breath.
This one makes you grip the blankets.
Logan's eyes fly open instantly.
Not gradually.
Not sleepily.
Instantly.
The way they always do whenever something is wrong.
He sits upright before he's fully awake.
"What?"
His voice is rough with sleep.
Then he sees your face.
Everything changes.
Your hand instinctively reaches for his.
"I think..."
You pause, breathing carefully.
"I think she's ready."
For one second, Logan simply stares.
Then he practically launches himself out of bed.
"Oh my God."
He trips over his own shoes.
Recovers.
Runs into the bedroom door.
Recovers again.
You can't help laughing.
Even through another contraction.
"Logan."
"I'm fine."
He isn't fine.
He spends the next five minutes running around the apartment in complete panic while insisting he is perfectly calm.
He grabs the hospital bag.
Forgets the car keys.
Finds the keys.
Leaves without his phone.
Comes back for the phone.
Walks halfway out again before realizing he's still wearing mismatched slippers.
You laugh so hard you nearly forget you're in labour.
Eventually he kneels beside you.
Taking both of your hands in his.
His breathing is faster than yours.
"You okay?"
The question makes your heart ache.
You nod.
"I'm okay."
"You sure?"
You smile despite everything.
"You're asking the woman in labour if she's okay?"
"Yes."
A beat.
"I'm going to keep asking."
Your smile grows.
"I know."
He presses a kiss against your forehead.
His lips linger there for a second.
"I've got you."
The words settle somewhere deep inside your chest.
You've got me.
After everything.
After all the years it took to get here.
He still says exactly what you need to hear.
—
Hours later, the hospital room feels strangely timeless.
The lights never change.
The sounds never stop.
Doctors and nurses move quietly in and out.
Time stretches until neither of you knows exactly how long you've been there.
Logan never leaves your side.
Not once.
He holds your hand through every contraction.
Helps you breathe when you forget.
Brushes damp hair away from your face.
Keeps telling you how well you're doing, even when you insist you're absolutely not.
"You are."
His thumb strokes over your knuckles.
"I've never seen anyone stronger."
You laugh weakly.
"I think you're biased."
"I definitely am."
Another contraction arrives.
His hand tightens around yours.
"I'm still right."
You squeeze his hand so hard later he'll have tiny crescent marks from your nails.
He never complains.
Not once.
—
When your daughter's first cry finally fills the room, the entire world seems to stop.
For one breathtaking moment...
Everything is perfect.
Logan's face crumples.
He cries openly.
Completely.
The nurses gently place your daughter into his waiting arms while the medical team continues caring for you.
She's impossibly small.
Wrapped in a white blanket.
Pink-faced.
Loud.
Beautiful.
Logan looks down at her like he's forgotten how to breathe.
"Hi..."
His voice breaks immediately.
"Hi, sweetheart."
His tears fall freely now.
"I'm your dad."
He laughs through them.
"I can't believe I get to say that."
The tiny hand that escapes the blanket wraps around one of his fingers.
And Logan falls in love all over again.
—
Then everything changes.
A nurse's voice cuts through the room.
Calm.
Professional.
Urgent.
Another joins her.
Then another.
You feel hands moving around you.
More people entering the room.
The atmosphere shifts so quickly it steals the air from Logan's lungs.
He looks up.
Confused.
"What—?"
No one answers immediately.
The medical team focuses entirely on you.
Equipment is moved.
Instructions are exchanged.
Everything becomes a blur.
Logan's heart begins pounding.
Someone gently takes the baby from his arms.
"Sir, we need you to step back."
He doesn't want to.
Every instinct screams at him to stay beside you.
"I'm not leaving her."
"We're taking care of her."
"I know."
His voice shakes.
"But I'm not leaving."
A doctor finally looks at him.
"We're going to do everything we can."
Everything we can.
Those four words freeze his blood.
He reaches for your hand one last time.
Your fingers feel limp inside his.
He bends quickly.
Pressing his forehead against yours.
"I love you."
His voice breaks completely.
"You hear me?"
A tear falls onto your cheek.
"I love you."
"I need you to stay with me."
His breathing becomes uneven.
"You promised we'd do this together."
Someone gently guides him backward.
He keeps looking at you.
Until the doors close.
—
The next forty-eight hours become a blur.
His daughter is healthy.
Perfect.
Beautiful.
She spends most of her time sleeping against his chest.
She has your nose.
Your tiny frown when she's dreaming.
Your little wrinkle between her eyebrows.
Every time he looks at her...
He sees you.
And every time he walks into the intensive care unit...
You are still asleep.
The doctors explain that your body has been through a severe medical emergency. To help you recover, you've been placed into a medically induced coma while they monitor you closely.
They tell him your condition is stable.
They tell him they're cautiously optimistic.
They tell him recovery will take time.
Time.
The word becomes both his greatest comfort and his greatest enemy.
So he settles into a routine.
Every morning he feeds your daughter.
Changes her.
Learns how to hold her bottle properly.
Learns how to swaddle her.
Learns that she only falls asleep if he's walking.
Then he brings her to your room.
He sits beside your bed with your daughter asleep against his shoulder.
And he talks.
Just like he used to talk to her before she was born.
Except now...
He's talking to both of you.
"She smiled today."
He looks down at the tiny face tucked against him.
"Well..."
A small laugh.
"Gas probably counts less."
His eyes drift back to yours.
"I still think you'd have loved it."
Every day he tells you something new.
How she yawns exactly like you.
How she hates having cold wipes.
How she already quiets down whenever he hums.
How she wrapped her whole hand around his finger this morning.
He refuses to let you miss any of it.
"You've got so much catching up to do."
His voice is gentle.
"But don't rush."
He reaches over carefully.
Taking your hand in his free one.
"We're waiting."
His thumb brushes softly across your knuckles.
"The three of us."
He looks down at your daughter.
Then back at you.
"So..."
His smile is tired.
But real.
"We're still doing this together."
Just like he'd promised.
Even while he waited for you to find your way back.
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pretty kitty (x)
𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊...
𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐦, 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐢 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬, & 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫
GARRETT GRAHAM...
garrett knows you're getting sick before you do. it starts when the two of you are sitting in the library, supposedly studying for your biology exam. he's trying, he really is, but every couple of minutes his eyes drift away from his notes and back to you.
normally you're the one reminding him to focus. today, though, you've barely said a word.
your chin is resting in your palm as you stare unfocused at your textbook, blinking a little slower than usual. every few minutes you quietly sniffle, rubbing your nose with the sleeve of your sweatshirt before apologizing under your breath.
garrett watches you for another minute before reaching across the table and laying the back of his hand against your forehead.
you blink up at him. "what are you doing?" his brows furrow. "checking to see if you're dying."
you let out the smallest laugh, rolling your eyes. "i'm not dying, silly."
"you look like you could fall asleep face first into your textbook."
"i'm just tired." he studies your face for another second. there are faint bags beneath your eyes, and your usual bright smile is nowhere to be found.
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Falling for him - Part 2
Part 1 | Part 2
John Logan (off campus) X fem!reader
(Party | confessing | kissing)
CW: cussing
Word count: 1009
Setting: neon party in the woods
Relationship: established friendship
Summary: Weeks after the shower incident you’re invited to the annual campus neon party. It’s a night where people get to be themselves and this means getting rid of all those feelings you think are just randomly surfacing. All without having to confess.
A/N: This was requested on AO3 so I’m sharing it here too. As per usual it is unedited
Falling for him - Part 1
Part 1 | Part 2
John Logan (off campus) X fem!reader
(Friends | Looking after you)
CW: Injury, cussing
Word count: 1234
Setting: Your apartment
Relationship: Established friendship
Summary: Slipping in the shower leads to you calling your oldest friend John to help, but for the first time you see him as more than a friend.
𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐬…
you hear the door click open and the familiar shuffle of john coming back from practice, his duffel hitting the floor with a soft thud.
he doesn’t even spare you a glance, immediately muttering something about drills and how coach was on his ass again, not even looking up as he takes off his shoes and heads straight for the desk where his laptop sits open.
you’ve been waiting, standing there in the middle of the room wearing nothing but delicate black lace that hugs your curves just right, the material doing little to hide anything, tiny bows at your hips and between your breasts catching the low light. he doesn’t notice. not at first.
“john,” you call softly, but he’s already typing, shoulders hunched, completely focused on whatever assignment or schedule he’s pulling up.
you try again, a little louder this time. “johnnn” you drag on. still nothing. he’s lost in his own world, his fingers flying over the keys, the only sound in the room the quiet click of the keys and his occasional sigh.
you take a slow step closer, the lace shifting against your skin with every movement.
“john. logan.” this time your voice carries a little more frustration, enough to make him pause.
he glances over his shoulder, distracted, his eyebrows drawn together like he’s about to give up completely.
then his eyes land on you.
Blinds Wide Open pt.2
t. john logan × reader, smut (mdni)
w/c: iski mkc. 5k (approx.)
tags: slow burn, pwp, p.in.v, oral (f. recieving), unprotected sex (pls dont do that), both have a breeding kink, multiple rounds? afab!reader, very sexy as i would say. logan is very very desperate.
a/n: ykw sue me for being so late. i had this sitting in the drafts for so long istg i saw spiders creating webs on it. i tried to make it kind of dialougue centric but i forgot i am very interospective so yea enjoy the part 2 and pls send me requests so i dont evaporate. :(
The days were fleeting, and the time was ticking every second. It was almost a week since that incident– the one where you were sprawled across the bed for Logan to see you through his window? Poor man couldn't get the image of you breaking down for him out of his brain; it flooded every nook and cranny of his hockey head. Whenever he was in class, you popped up in his head with you taking off your cute pink panties; whenever he was in practice, he missed his shot because the picture of you cumming on your fingers played in his head at that very moment– poor Logan then got lectured by Coach Jensen. He sometimes looked through the same window, hoping to see you in that way again, no matter how lewd that thought even was. However, he could never– your blinds were always closed, and he always saw you when you were sitting on your lawn, either reading your book or laughing with Hannah and Allie.
John Logan was already crazy for you, but after that night, he could never think of anyone but you. And you? As much as you pretended to be confident and unbothered, which riled up Logan very much, that incident ate up every part of your self-control and desire. Countless nights, your hands crept beneath your shorts, and your palm groped your chest as you moaned into the air, thinking about Logan– how you only saw his lips parting, but you swore you almost heard him moan. Countless times you fantasised about Logan running his calloused fingers through your body and kissing you with his whole might and guiding your body to pleasure– far too many times you dreamed about it, when you were in your classes, when you were in your musical practice, even during your shift at Malone's, when Hannah snapped you out of your haze.
There were a few occasions when you both interacted, with eye contact, which left you both heavy afterwards, sometimes with small smiles, but none of you said anything because words get lost on your tongue as soon as you see him. You peered through your window whenever you got the time, maybe while you got ready– Logan and his mates working out in the lawn, and oh, how it made your whole body work up at the sight of him. You saw his biceps flex as he lifted his dumbbells and wondered how your nails would dig in them, and how those marks would look on his arms, as you chewed on your pencil. And when he looked at your window, you immediately looked away, hoping he didn't see– and he didn't, well, he couldn't catch the sight of your pretty eyes staring at him.
You both were desperate for each other, but afraid of taking the step. So many times you both reached for the phone for that one call, but the hope drowned as soon as the contact appeared on the screen. Throwing the phone somewhere on the bed and looking at the window– who knew that a freaking window could become someone's favourite thing. You begged to whatever heavens that were above you to get a sight of him, maybe undressed if they were generous enough, and Logan wished to see you in your skimpy little outfits, dreaming about how he could take them off in one swift move.
One of you definitely needed to make the move, but who? That question still lingered in the folds of the sheets of your bed.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
It was one of those nights where the hockey house was crowded with drunk students of Briar U, dancing and chatting loudly with energy. You were currently in your room with Hannah and Allie, applying the blush on your cheeks as you checked yourself out in the mirror. You wore a sheer black shirt, your black lace bra peeking out, paired with a black miniskirt and a large black belt with a large buckle. It was paired with silver dangly hoops and knee-high, black leather boots. You felt bold tonight, bold for Logan to see and approach you, maybe with the night ending on your bed as he took all of this off.
“Babe, are you thinking of killing Logan with your outfit?” Allie said from your bed as she was ruffling her hair up in the hand mirror. “Poor guy, he doesn’t know that he has to feel his self-control depleting again.”
“Logan hasn’t stopped talking about you for some reason”, Hannah’s voice followed. You didn’t tell them what happened that night, but maybe you will pretty soon.
A chuckle left your lips. “Well, Allie, you say as you apply your lip gloss, 'If he wants me, he’s gotta handle all of me.”
“Ooh, she's getting laid tonight”, you hear Hannah laugh from behind.
But as funny or entertaining as it seemed, the thought of it crept under your skin and shook every nerve in your body.
Logan couldn’t wait to see you tonight. He looked around the crowded room between conversations with Garrett, hoping to see your smiling face, hoping to just talk to you, for which he practised in the mirror with Tucker catching him and leaving the room with a held-in laughter. All the girls who came to him with intentions and the cup of booze in his hand seemed so uninteresting without you; it was one of the first times a party didn’t please him.
He almost decided to ditch the party and walk to your door before he saw you enter the room with Hannah and Allie. Everything around him went silent. You walked towards him, and he swore that his heart skipped a few beats right there. He could see everything, especially your black lace bra that peeked through the translucent fabric of your shirt.
“Oh, you’re done for,” Dean whispered behind him.
“What the fuck do you mean?”
“Listen, you can leave the party if you want to.” Dean’s face cracked a little smirk before Logan could even say anything. Dean walked away to meet Allie, and now he stood alone near the kitchen island.
You felt him stare, very well. Ever since you entered his periphery, every shift of eyes riled you up. You wanted to talk to him, but your girls kept you busy with half of the people in the room. And for him, every shot of liquid courage still didn't do as it said; he either chickened out or gave up the thought when he saw you talk to other guys who didn’t please you much either.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
The night descended into perfection– the lights were dimmed, and your favourite song was blasting through the speakers as you and Allie danced away. The alcohol was already in your system and made everything so amplified. Logan, he finally got a break from all the girls who tried to entertain him but failed.
He stood near the staircase, leaned against one side of the handrail as he saw you dance– your hips moving swiftly with the rhythm and your hair flowing with you. You felt him stare at you; well, you actually wanted him to stare at you. This whole night you dolled up and presented yourself to him, and still he didn’t approach you. You were so close to giving up before you saw the intent in his eyes– maybe it really isn’t in your head. Logan saw you stare at him while you moved, and every sway made him want you even more.
“Why are you not talking to her man?” It was Dean, again. Logan was ready for whatever mockery he was about to throw.
“What do you mean?” Logan tried to numb this pit in his stomach with a sip of his drink.
“I saw you the entire night man, do not try to kid me, ” Dean seemed serious with his expression as he pointed at him. “You were staring at her throughout the party.”
Wow, so it was that obvious…
“Now is the right time, Logan. The music is right, she is dancing, and don’t worry about Allie, she will not bother.” He was actually right. Logan wasn’t mistaken at all– you wanted him as much as he wanted you, so why was he so afraid of approaching you the entire night?
Logan downed the last of his drink and handed the cup to Dean. “Thank you so much, man”
And for you, you didn’t notice much of anything. Allie was in front of you, holding both your hands and moving, before her expression changed as she saw something behind you, and with a smirk, she blew you a kiss and left. You were almost perplexed before you felt a body behind you, hands creeping around your waist, and sliding down to your hips to guide you with him. You felt his lips grazing your ears before he spoke, “Sorry to keep you waiting the entire night”, Logan whispered in your ear. And the tone of his voice immediately sent your nerves tingling, and he noticed by the way your chest rose.
“If it were me, we would be in the bedroom already. You heard his breath hitch in your ears, and his chest shifted against your back.
Logan pressed you against him, for you to feel the warmth of his body– his hands roamed, hoping to feel something through your sheer shirt. And you took advantage of it, you pressed your ass against him and let your head fall back on his shoulder. The soft sound that was elicited from his lips and the feel of him growing against you immediately gave you satisfaction. Poor guy almost felt himself break down at the situation, he didn’t know how long he could hold himself back. He pulled your hips even closer so you could feel him entirely.
“See what you do to me?” He said as his lips grazed the nape of your neck, taking in the scent of your sweet perfume– your skin electrifying with each touch. You could feel his control dropping with each beat of the music.
You shifted in his arms so you could face him. His face was inches from yours, the faint shimmer in your eyes spread to your cheeks, and your lipstick faded with a faint tint left. You made him want you even more. And you could see the flush of his cheeks in the dim light of the room, his eyes heavy with need— the way it was the other night. He leaned in, his lips touching yours, testing the waters. You almost gave in before an idea came to your head.
You pulled away– his shoulders feeling empty from your arm sliding off his shoulders. Logan was confused– if you wanted him the entire time and led everything till now, then why did you stall at the last moment? You saw the perplexity on his face, it made you feel guilty for a while– but the true intent behind your idea made you excited. You prayed that he did what you wanted him to do– to not follow you. He saw you slip away from his arms and walk to the door, looking back at him on the dance floor with a smirk before you went away. This definitely had to mean something.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Logan lost it all. He was contemplating whether to follow you to his house or drink his pain away for the night. Instead, he decided to skip the entire party and spend the night in his room. He entered his room, and the first thing he saw was his window. Your blinds were still closed— wrenching his heart more than he expected. He fell back into his bed, staring at the ceiling. Logan used to be man for whom women used to drop down to their feet. He used to have a fleet of puck bunnies swarming around him. And now, he is a miserable man whose dick cannot stand up without the thought of you.
And you? You were on a full ride with this game, and he knew that, yet he let himself be played. Every single move that you made was intentional. Like how he saw you in the back garden the other day, putting up daises on the ground in your shorts and a shirt so right. Whenever you bent and an intimate sliver of skin, Logan looked away– trying to be respectful even though he saw you in a much explicit scenery. Unfortunately, his dick reacted way before than his mind did.
You open your blind and look into Logan’s window. The lights are dim in his room, but you figure out that he is sprawled across his bed. The heavens above have heard your plea, your plan is working to perfection. You ring his phone. Logan is taken out of his thoughts when he sees your name calling him. He picks it up in a hurry.
“Look at your window, Logan.” He immediately sat up and saw you. Your stood there, a sultry grin on your face and your fingers fluttering to greet him.
“Is it my turn say sorry for making you wait” he heard you continue, his attention completely on you now.
“I wanna make it up to you. So, I want you to keep your eyes on me. Can you do that for me?”
Your voice had him in a trance now. He was already recalling the night before. However, two can play a game.
You heard his voice through your phone, “What’s in it for me then?”
“You’ll know”, your fingers played with the buttons of your shirt, opening them one at a time. You could hear Logan chuckle lowly on the other line, it immediately went between your thighs.
On the other side, Logan saw you slowly undress, presenting to him like his favorite show. He leaned back and played along, even if he wanted to come over, pin you against the window and fuck you so that everybody could see who you belong to. The shirt now slipped off your shoulder, displaying your bra that peeked underneath the sheerness of your shirt. It was now followed by your skirt, the matching panties coming into his sight. You took your skirt off slowly, letting the man spectating you get impatient. You heard his voice shudder on the other line– means your plan was working.
Logan was practically holding himself back. Until he saw you sit on the bed and spread your legs apart, your fingers running lightly on thighs as he heard your breath getting heavier on the call. The touch was small, but knowing that he was currently watching you on the other side, it riled you up even more, making even the smallest shifts send sparks in your entire system.
“Logan…” You called him. He heard your cry on the other side, that was his cue. He stormed out of his room, rushed through the crowd and there he was at your door. He rang the bell once, then again. You rushed downstairs, tying the knot of your silk robe as you opened the door to see him standing. None of you said anything in that moment, there was a quiet intimacy in the way you both stood– as if the past and future mingled something into you both could not comprehend. Logan took a step forward, your chest touching his. You could feel the warmth radiating off his body, as you looked up at him– the streetlight illuminating a side of his face, his eyes waiting for you to give the cue. Logan clenched his fists on the side, trying to keep the last speck of his willpower. And then he said your name softy, it sent sparks through your whole body.
“Logan” your voice came out soft, as your hands placed itself on his shoulders like it was meant to be placed there. He understood it, he saw it in your eyes, he heard it in your tone– the desperation that he always misunderstood.
He didn’t miss another second pulling you in– his lips on yours. Yours were soft, a hint of cocoa that he could taste. His hands rested on your waist as it slithered from your hips to your ass, a slight grip. You pulled on the collar of his jacket as you gasped into his lips. Your lips moved against his, the heat between you both increasing. He guided you inside the house and locked the door behind him. You pulled away from the kiss as you looked at him– his lips red from the kiss, the rouge on his cheeks and his pupils dilated. He looked so pretty– so yours. You pulled him in for a kiss again. Your hands were now sliding through the nape of his neck to his hair, your fingers tangling into his hair. He hummed into his kiss as he peppered kisses from your lips to your neck, sucking into the skin of your neck and marking open kisses into your collarbone. Each second made you want him even more.
Logan pulled away as his eyes were on you now, a small smile on his face.
“Do you want this?”
“Yes”. Your voice was a little rough.
“Are you sure?”
You nodded.
“Words, baby”
Baby, the word hit you like a truck. Logan saw you froze for a moment.
“Yes. I want you, Logan”
“Perfect.”
He leaned in for a kiss again, but this time it was a little rougher. His hand held the back of your neck as his other hand grabbed on your hip tightly, as if you could slip away so easily. He pressed himself against your thigh; you could feel him hard already.
“See what you did to me, baby?” His voice was rough in your ear. “That's how you made me the second you danced on me.” The way he said each word, it reached between your legs before it hit your conscious.
“My pretty baby wouldn't make me wait today, hmm?” He held your chin delicately so as to meet your eyes. “Would she?” He waited for you to answer.
“No,” He could see you melting with each second. “Wanna be good for you.”
Logan felt his composure break the minute he saw you look at him with pretty eyes, as if they were begging him to break you tonight. He flashed a small smirk, “That's my girl”, his voice was low. He leaned in to kiss you again, this time, slow but steady– his tongue prodding your lips and you letting him in with no hesitation. Your nails scratched softly at his shoulder through his shirt, you heard him groan into your mouth.
His hands moved to the back of your thighs, grabbing you and lifting you like you're nothing. He moved to the kitchen island, his kisses rough on your neck and to your chest– you leaned back to his touch. His fingers looped into the knot of your robe, as your eyes met his. You could see a soft tease in his expression; and he could see the want in your eyes. The robe untied between his fingers, and he could see the delicate black lace adorned on your body. He ran his finger along the delicate line of your panties.
“Is this for me, pretty?” He asked.
You nodded.
“I need words.” He demanded. It made your thigh clench, and he noticed that.
“Yes. Just for you.” Your voice came out low and shaky, as his hands inched closer and closer to where you need him the most.
“So good for me,” his finger glided softly over your covered slit. A soft sigh elicited from your lips. “Showing yourself off so prettily, like you know who you belong to”, then presses his fingers to your clit through the fabric. Even the softest touch made you so worked up. “So wet f'me.”
His hand pulled away as he slotted himself between your legs, kneeling down. You propped yourself on your elbows, looking down at him as he left small kisses along your inner thigh. “Logan.” You called him.
He was now alert, “What's wrong baby?”
The word made your brain short circuit again, “You don't have to do it.”
“Don't have to do what?”
The words were difficult to get out, ironic considering the position you're in.
“Uhh. You know. What you're about to do.” You murmured.
“You don't want me to eat you out. What kind of man does that?”
You couldn't reply to that.
“Listen.” His grip on your thighs tightened, “You're here with me now. You're mine. And I'm going to do what you like, okay?”
“Yes, Logan.”
“Do you want this?”
“Yes, I want this.”
“That's my girl.”
He kissed your clit through the fabric, immediate sparks. And then his tounge teased it, a soft moan leaving your lips. His teeth tugged at the waistband of your lace as he took it off with his teeth, dragging it slowly through your legs for you to observe. That was the hottest thing you ever witnessed.
He pulled your legs apart again, settling between them. His eyes were on you as he took a long stripe along your slit, your fingers gripped nothing. His tounge continued his work, alternating between small circles on your clit. Your body was on sparks and you didn't even mind the sounds that escaped your lips– sounding like most beautiful song for Logan. His hand held you tight to keep you from moving away. His lips were on your clit now, sucking on it softly as you held yourself back from breaking down right there, Logan noticed that.
"It's okay, come on my tounge now." His pace fastened as his tounge remained flat as your hips grinded to reach your high.
It didn't even take much time, you fell apart– a moan escaping your lips as you gasped with overstimulation as his tounge worked on your pussy. He pulled away as you reached for a kiss, tasting your essence on his lips.
"Did so good for me." He left a peck on your lips.
"So, do you wanna do me here, or upstairs." Your voice came out rougher. You saw it in his face, him breaking a little.
"Don't say it like that, baby. You know how you make me."
"I know that."
"Of course you do", he picked you up in his arms and took you upstairs.
You lost the consciousness about the time for a while as he cradled you in his arms to the bedroom upstairs, the reality hit you when you back hit the bed– and Logan just above you. This was exactly moment that you both waited for, hidden behind those very blinds from which you both peeked but never spoke. There was a silent initmacy between you both, a realisation of what this series of events might bring for both of you. You saw the rogue in his cheeks and he saw the desperation behind your eyes. Your hands reached out to caress his face, him immediately leaning into your touch as if he was depraved of it for years, his eyes closed for a moment and his lips gaped before he looked at you. He immediately leaned in for a kiss, this time a little gentle and intimate. His hands shifted to your shoulders, taking off the robe that hung from your shoulder and throwing it somewhere on the ground. His kisses fluttered from your necks to your shoulders, his lips engraved in every mole on your shoulder.
You lost your touch with time and space, everything in your awareness turned into him. His fingers that worked skillfully to take your bra off, and his thigh that settled near your sex. Logan looked at you momentarily, seeing you lose yourself, that made him want you even more. His pleasure was your pleasure, and he could give anything for it. You felt his lips grazing, laying small kisses around your breasts, before his tounge circled around your nipples. He heard your soft moans. Your hips shifted under his knees, and chased for the feeling.
He lifted himself up for a moment. "What d'you want?"
"Please," your voice soft and needy, it immediately went to Logan's dick. "I want it all."
"You sure, baby?" his fingers tucked a strand falling on your face. You nodded frantically, lips caught behind your teeth as you held yourself back from making anymore noises.
Logan took his jacket off, followed by his shirt which landed somewhere near your robe on the floor. Your eyes landed where it was supposed to, his muscular built– a result of meticulous physical toil of hockey. Your hands unconciously grazed his abdomen, nails lightly scrarching where he just wanted to. Every touch worked up every nerve in his body. He held your wrist and guided it to where he needed the most. He swore he saw heaven when you palmed him. Your fingers crept to the fly of his pants and worked to take it off.
He took his pants off, sitting there with his boxers. Two of your fingers pulled on his boxers as his dick springed out, tan at the tip and a shape that made your thighs close and mouth water. You looked up at him, and you felt him pulse on your hand. Your hands shifted, drops of precum leaking from his tip. He threw his head back, chest heaving with need.
"Maybe next time, I promise." His voice was rougher. The thought made you shift a little, maybe, it made you pull your legs closer. His hands immediately caged your legs. You didn't realise when his boxers were discarded. He pulled you closer to him, you felt him near your slit sliding up and down, his tip hitting your sensitive clit and making you moan.
"Please, Logan," you cried out, music to his ears.
"Please what baby?" He was so condesending. You wanted him even more.
"I want it so bad."
"How can I deny you begging baby?" His tip now prodded at your entrance, making you moan at the stretch. He shifted more, giving you time to adjust. You felt so good against him— warm, wet, and fluttering with need as you moaned out gripping the sheets beneath you. His fingers dug into your hips or wherever it managed to grab, holding to urge to push it all in. And when he bottomed out, moans erupted from both your throats.
"I'm gonna move now okay?" He tried to manage his words out of a tangle. You were as worse as him, your fingers holding on to his shoulders, nails leaving marks on his back. His hips rocked, giving you the most wanted push ever.
His paced quickened before he could even realise. And how could he not— you were sprawled out so prettily, squirming and moaning as if he was the only one who could give you the pleasure you deserve. "Yes, yes Logan. Just like that– oh I'm not going to last long!" You cried, fingers digging into his arms.
He was now only focused on your pleasure, pace quickening as your every spasm send shivers down his back. "Come for me, baby", and that was your signal. A moan tore from your throat as you felt every nerve in your body stimulate, the wave of your orgasm hitting you in the best way. He moved until the rode off your release.
Both of you paused for a moment, you coming back to reality. "You good?" He asked.
"Yes," You nodded. "Never felt better"
"Good," he seemed to prepare something that he knew would make you lose your head. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, "Because I'm not over with you."
Before you could even comprehend, he flipped you on your stomach and began with his move, hitting every spot so relentlessly as if he intended to break you apart tonight. You gripped the sheets beneath you, pleasure heightened even more because of your previous orgasm.
"My- pretty baby–" He groaned out, the tone sending sparks in your belly. "Making me feel so good." You moaned in response.
"Huh– so loud, no one made you feel this way?", you were pathetically moaning under him. "Only—only you, Logan." Your response resulted into a smack landing on you ass. "So filthy," every word from his mouth etch closer to your orgasm
Logan couldn't hold himself back anymore, he felt it in his lower spine, his grip tightening on you hips as he hit your g-spot deliciously. "Logan– I'm not gonna fuck last long" You forced your words out.
"Where do you want it, baby?" He groaned.
"In me."
"Inside?" He questioned.
"Yeah. I'm on the pill."
You felt his hips stuttered as he held his groan. So he liked the thought of it. You wanted to push him even more but decided to keep it for another day. And he knew that you would use his kink to your advantage someday. But the thought made you kind of hot, you felt yourself getting closer. "Fuck– come with me." Logan groaned from behind you.
h You both broke apart. Your fingers gripping so hard on the pillow that your knuckles were white, and you moaning so loud that it almost sounded like a prayer. Logan pushed as much as he could, filling you up to the brim as his whole body shuddered above you. You stayed there for a moment, with him, before he pulled himself out and lay beside you.
There was a silent question between you both, which none of you dared to ask– what are we now? It was complicated but you both decided to let this question rise with the sun tommorow. You reached for the warmth in his embrace and he welcomed you with a small peck on your forehead, promising something just for the moment before you both could lose something.
Maybe the answer was right here, this is the right way. The right one.
pls send me reqs before i explode.
boyfriend!john logan headcannons ‹𝟹
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ♡ i actually kind of need john logan as my boyfriend but that’s just me, based on this request, my requests are currently open !! <3
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ♡ fluff, established relationship, whipped logan, lowkey oblivious reader
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ♡ john logan x fem!reader
۶ৎ boyfriend!john logan does anything you want without you asking twice. need help carrying something? he’s already got it. your car is making weird noises? he’s on it immediately, his friends called him whipped but he calls it love.
۶ৎ boyfriend!john logan loves holding your hand. whether it’s walking down the street, you two are at a restaurant, or even if you’re in class. his hand finds yours always, rubbing soft circles on the back of it.
۶ৎ boyfriend!john logan loves when you steal his hoodies. especially when they start to smell like you after awhile. he starts to notice his shortage of hoodies and gets slightly confused til he goes over to your apartment and see your closet full of his hoodies.
۶ৎ boyfriend!john logan secretly loves doing facemasks with you. he thought he would hate it at first but he loves the silent moment between you two when you’re on the bathroom counter & he’s in between your legs, watching you concentrate placing the mask on his face.
۶ৎ boyfriend!john logan lets you know you’re beautiful in moments you don’t feel it. when you’re sick, he’s calling you the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. when you’re kind of grouchy and annoyed at the world, he thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous.
۶ৎ boyfriend!john logan has a girlfriend instinct. he can feel when you’re close or about to walk into a room he’s in. his friends think it’s crazy how he can tell when you’re close and how he’s right every. single. time.
۶ৎ boyfriend!john logan is an absolute gentlemen. ever since you’ve started seeing each other, you never open you door with him, you don’t ever pay, you’ve never walked on the outside of the street. and you for damn sure don’t worry about guys hitting on you.
۶ৎ boyfriend!john logan kisses your cheek or forehead as a goodbye. when you first started dating, you always kissed his cheek and just never stopped and now it’s apart of your routine. whenever you or him are about to leave, you kiss his cheek and he leans down and kisses your forehead.
boyfriend!john logan is the perfect man!!!!!
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drop dead | j.logan
a/n: i'm so sorry for the extra long wait with this one, but it is finally here and is hopefully worth the wait!! i am finally done moving for the next little bit so i will be trying to get the next chapters out faster but thank you guys so much for your patience and all your love for parts 1 and 2, i hope you enjoy this chapter just as much!!
p.s. i only proofread it once because i was so eager to post it for y'all so please excuse any mistakes :))
part I part II
word count: 6.6k
synopsis: logan gives you his jersey to wear to his game, but you can't decide whether wearing it means you're his or not
Behind the Lens
☄︎ Warnings: not proofread! girl on top. ☄︎ Pairing: F!Reader x John Logan ☄︎ Rating/Genre: Mature (🔞). Smut. ☄︎ Words: 4629 ☄︎ Summary: You work as the Hawks' Social Media Manager, and one of the players has a crush on you.
💭: yeah, so logan and i are locked in now... the social media part was also inspired by a tiktok from England Rugby. if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, ask, reblog etc, it means a lot xx
Original request here. 〣 Off Campus Masterlist here.〣 Logan Masterlist here.
Some days as the media manager for the Briar U Hawks Hockey Team, you genuinely felt like you spent half your life waiting around for them, just to get a 30-second result. Today was one of those days. Anybody who claimed women take longer than men to get ready had clearly never waited on a hockey player to put his gear on.
